


the distance between experience and its representation

by cosmicpoet



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Traditions, happy tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 01:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17132177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicpoet/pseuds/cosmicpoet
Summary: Maki doesn't know much about Christmas, but Kaito is right there for her, helping her make her own Christmas traditions.





	the distance between experience and its representation

Harukawa walks the cold streets on her own, a choice made by an adamant mind, curling in on itself for protection. She knows that she’s got Momota at home, and she knows that everything is fine - or, rather, she’s more sure than she’s ever been before that things are fine, but there’s still doubt. That’s just how she is. Call it cynicism. Say ‘cynical’, say ‘magnifying glass against sunlight’, say that things can be good and they can still get worse. Say all of this, and more.

Talk about fairytales. Give her the script for the dragon.

“But I don’t know how to be scary,” she says, so they teach her how to be afraid.

This is over. Tell yourself, Harukawa, tell yourself this is over, and the cold streets are not a place for sleeping. Say ‘home’, and go there. So she does.

_Home_ being the little apartment she shares with Momota, number 53 in a block where Saihara lives only a few doors down; close to all her friends, her found family, the people who make everything worthwhile. Even now, when she looks back on her past, she doesn’t feel the terrifying trepidation of _‘will I end up back there?’_

“I’m home,” she shouts when she unlocks the door. In this instant, she realises two things. One; that this is her first Christmas where she isn’t on her own. Two; that she has underestimated just how much Momota loves the holidays.

“Happy Christmas Eve, babe,” Momota says, emerging from their little kitchen-dining room with an apron on, “you ready to make a gingerbread house?”

“A what now?”

“A gingerbread house, y’know?”

“Yeah, I know what they are. I’ve just never made one before.”

“I figured. It’s your first proper Christmas, ain’t it?”

“What do you mean by _proper Christmas?”_

“You know…with people. With friends.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s no big deal though.”

“No big deal? Harumaki, it’s a huge deal! I mean, Christmas is all about being surrounded by people who love you, and this year we’re all gonna be here!”

“I…I guess. I don’t really know much about Christmas, though.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Momota gestures to his apron. He pulls out a wrapped package from behind the sofa and hands it to her, “so welcome to your _Christmas Crash Course_ with the one and only Luminary of the Stars!”

“Right…what the fuck?”

“C’mon Harumaki,” he laughs, “you’ll love it!”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” she smiles at him, her face full of the love that threatens to burst directly out of her heart, “I already do.”

Opening the gift, she finds an apron that matches Kaito’s. She ties her hair back into a high ponytail whilst he helps her fasten the apron, and then he’s leading her to the kitchen. Say ‘love’, say ‘happiness’, say that this will be forever, and if it isn’t, then forever is worth nothing.

Then she’s in the kitchen, like everything has led to her being here, listening to Christmas music whilst Momota kisses away the icing sugar that’s covering her nose. It’s not like she knows any of the lyrics, but that doesn’t matter, because Momota knows them all, and now they’re a pair, so it’s almost like she knows them, too.

Confidence swells in her chest, and suddenly she’s butchering the lyrics to _Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree_ as Momota giggles at her, and everything is so, so good. The wind outside can’t touch her, now, not with the warmth of the kitchen and of her boyfriend’s arms around her surrounding her with protection from the horrors of her past.

There’s a knock at the door, and they open it together, like a couple - the Christmas card picture boyfriend and girlfriend, with matching aprons and genuine smiles, greeting their best friend Saihara. It’s almost too perfect, but there’s no fear in her heart that this will, or ever could, turn sour. He’s got gifts in his arms, and he walks into the apartment like he lives there, too - because he practically does, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

As Momota and Harukawa follow him down the hallway to the living room, she stops just under the threshold of the door, pulling Momota close. Holding his collar, she kisses him full on the mouth, feeling him smile into it as he reciprocates. Despite not being familiar with _all_ Christmas traditions, she knows a thing or two about mistletoe, and as they stand under it, kissing feels like the whole world is right.

When they break apart, Momota looks happily confused.

“That was…nice,” he says.

“Well, y’know, tradition,” she replies.

“What?”

She points upwards towards the mistletoe.

“I’m gonna need a little more than that,” he says, kissing her on the cheek.

“Mistletoe, dumbass.”

“Harumaki…that’s holly.”

“What?”

“That, up there,” he says, barely able to restrain his laughter, “is holly. Not mistletoe.”

“Fuck.”

“Close enough, though.”

He kisses her again, both of them breathless and trying to restrain laughter. It’s not long before Saihara wonders why the hell they’re taking so long to join him in the living room, and when he finds them, they’re sitting against the wall of the hallway, laughing so much that no sound is coming out of their mouths.

“Damn it you two,” he smiles, “what is it this time?”

“I…I think,” Momota says between staccato laughs, punctuated by inhales of breath, “Harumaki and I…just invented a new Christmas tradition.”

“Oh?”

“Kissing under the holly.”

“Oh!”

Soon enough, Saihara joins in the laughter, and the three of them sit in the hallway, knees buckled up to their chests, drinking mulled whiskey from Saihara’s hip flask, unable to move for the giggling that overtakes them.

And then Momota looks over to his girlfriend, and she’s crying. Not noticeably, but there are tear streaks on Harukawa’s face, and, concerned, he falls into silence.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“N-Nothing,” she says, smiling despite her tears, “nothing at all. Everything is perfect. I’m just…Momota…I’m so happy.”

“Sweetheart, is it too much? I’m sorry…I didn’t think…”

“No, no, please. It’s perfect. It’s so wonderful. Momota, I’m crying because…because I’ve never felt this _happy_ before.”

“So it’s good, yeah?”

“Yes. _Yes,_ it’s perfect, Momota. God, I love you. And Saihara…thank you! Thank you for showing me what friendship is like. You two…this is perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

“I love you, Harumaki,” Momota says, putting his arm around her and kissing her on the cheek.

“Yeah, Harukawa,” Saihara says, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” she says, and everything is so, so wonderful.

Say ‘wonderful’, say ‘love’, say ‘Christmas’, say that finally, the world has opened its arms for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas! This is for the #momoharuexchange2018, and I got [@greeninkpenguin](https://twitter.com/greeninkpenguin) on twitter! They asked for Maki crying happy tears, and I hope this is okay!
> 
> Please comment if you liked this!
> 
> Title from the poem 'The Language of the Birds' by Richard Siken.


End file.
